Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *
We can be forgiven for believing that we stand in the shadows cast by our parents, especially when they have raised such a standard in their lifetime that the sun could be said to never set on their achievements.
The sun though must rise above, and so must the child, the son or the daughter to whom the bar is raised higher if they dare walk in the footsteps of the giant in their life. The path is made easier and more complex if you choose to honour the parent by performing a selection of their back catalogue, of showcasing their timeless moments, then you are placing yourself in a self-contained dichotomy. On one hand you have the pleasure of seeing the faces of those who adored your parent, and then the pressure of making sure that your interpretation is immaculate, flawless, as pristine as you can possibly achieve…but all the while maintaining your creative individuality.
As the terrific label Ruf Records celebrates its 30th anniversary, it is only fitting that one of its biggest stars, Bernand Allison, brings the attention of his father’s enormous work to the senses of a new generation and it is one that is delivered with aplomb, with every conviction required to let the son once again prove delightfully he is his own man, his own musician of expert value.
The Chicago Blues legend that left his Arkansas home in pursuit of having his voice heard is once more at the forefront of the listener’s mind, and that sound, the voice translated by a guitar and appreciated for its generational lick and smooth call, finds the combination of the master and the apprentice made good one of sublime beauty in the two-disc set, Luther’s Blues.
Handpicked by Bernard Allison himself, the album is one of renown, it is a glory bathed in honour, but also memory, a faultless understanding of time in two different eras and generations merging as one. In many ways it will remind the listener of other ambition met in terms of performing with a parent to whom has long since slipped into the shadows themselves, especially in the reading by Natalie Cole in the stunning adaption of her father’s Unforgettable.
Unforgettable indeed, and so to Luther’s Blues will be seen in the same fashion, not judged, but considered to be perfect on every level, and as tracks such as the opener Hang On, Serious, Now You Got It, Midnight Creeper, the superb Change Your Way Of Living, Too Many Women, the drive of Compromising For Your Needs, and A Change Must Come is one filled with a certainty of expression, and the bind between the two becomes more than father and son, it becomes one of respect as an artist.
Luther’s Blues is memory and beginning, it is respect, but also one of interpretation and explanation to a new audience; and in every way possible, Bernard Allison reveals harmony.
Ian D. Hall